Harmony House - Nic Sheff Page 0,12

beach into town. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“It’s all right,” I say. “I just moved in today . . . so, uh . . . I don’t know the area.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says.

He smiles more and I can see a dimple in his cheek that’s pretty goddamn cute.

“Everyone’s been talking about you coming into town. There’s not much else going on ’round here.”

“So I gathered.”

“I’m Colin, by the way,” he says.

I tell him my name and we shake hands and I feel the heat from his body.

“I’m sorry about Alex,” he says. “His dad owns like ninety percent of the real estate in Beach Haven . . . and Staffordshire Township. He’s used to getting what he wants. The whole Winter family is like that.”

“Winter?”

“Yeah, Alex Winter. He’s got three brothers and they’re all as bad as he is. Worse, maybe.”

“Isn’t that the name of the actor in Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure? I mean, the one who’s not Keanu Reeves?”

Colin laughs again.

“I never saw it.”

“Well, thank you, again,” I say. “Are you gonna have trouble with him later?”

He shrugs.

“Twenty bucks says he won’t even remember this. We were on the football team together a couple of years ago. I can handle him fine.”

“There was something not right about him,” I say. “I felt that right off.”

“Everyone’s goin’ a little crazy with the winter coming in. Town like this, there’s nothin’ to do ’til spring. You’ll see. It’ll probably get worse before it gets better.”

“Great,” I say.

We both stay silent for a minute.

“How long have you lived here?” I ask him, starting back toward the house, letting him walk along with me.

“Couple years,” he says. “I was in Vermont before this. My uncle’s a contractor. Did some work on the Harmony House remodel, actually.”

“Oh,” I say. “So you know it, then?”

“Yeah, a little. My uncle only lasted a couple days on the job. You know there are no right angles in the entire building? Every corner is off center. And a room that seems like it should be directly on top of another room is to the left or right. It’s like a carnival fun house. The original owner built it that way intentionally, so the hotel developers wanted to preserve that same . . . uh . . . lack of symmetry.” He pauses. “Which, when you’re in construction, is a real pain in the ass.”

I laugh. “Is that why your uncle quit?”

“No, not just that. You meet him? The developer guy?”

“No.”

“People here wanted to run him out of town. They were pretty unhappy with the house being turned into a tourist attraction. There’re a lotta stories about what went on up there. They think the place should have been . . . left alone.”

I glance down the drive toward the house. “Thanks for your help,” I say. “But I better go on alone from here. I was trying to explain this to our mutual pal Alex, there, but my dad is a bit of a Puritan. Meaning if he sees me walking with a boy, he’s gonna come kill me and then kill said boy, and then we’re both gonna be dead.”

He laughs. “You sure you’re all right?”

I nod.

“Well, it’s a small town,” he says. “So I know I’ll see you again.”

“I hope so. I really can’t thank you enough.”

I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his rough-feeling cheek—quickly.

I run off then without saying anything else.

I run down the dark, winding driveway, the trees like a canopy overhead. There is a crashing through the underbrush. Rats and night birds, screeching owls, the high-pitched cries of bats in the night.

A car engine sounds behind me and there are headlights rounding the bend. It must be my dad returning from the store. I cut off the road into the tangle of branches and ivy. I crouch in the bramble, waiting, holding my injured wrist tightly.

My dad’s car drives slowly by.

I bide my time.

My eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness again after the lights pass.

I creep back toward the house.

I climb up the trellis again and in through my open window.

The room is just as pink and terrible as when I left it.

I take off my contraband clothes and hide them under the bed.

Then I put on a pair of flannel pajamas and get out my cosmetics bag with my toothbrush and makeup.

I open the heavy door to my room and step out into the strange, curving hallway lined with grotesque, mismatching wallpaper. The